Who Writes The Poem

Who would write the poem? I urged earnestly . Heart can’t write Weak patient She can’t even hold the pen . Thoughts can’t write Suspicious fellow She can’t even prove her sanity . Mind can’t write Conscious shamer She better deny . Memories can’t write Fragile child She better hide . At last Blood answers…

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Remember When It Rains

An angel flew through the stormy rain, Landed beside my fragile dream. Mischievously, She whimpered a message from you. . Did you just send a question? A question brings you sleepless night Have you asked a question? A question shadows your weary heart . No, my dear. I wasn’t a fair one Each sentence for…

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The Trophy Child

There was a time I dreamed of walking under the rain, With sweet tenderness by my side; There was a time I dreamed of running through the mountain, With wild strikes catching up behind; I dreamed of a dream, That my smile makes me enough; I dreamed of a dream, That my tears make me…

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Dear Ann

Dear Ann, My little one. My protector. Graceful and cunning. Invisible to all, You have fooled the world. *** Dear Ann, My troubled one, My destroyer. Bright and dark. misunderstood by all, You have fooled the world. *** Dear Ann, My poor darling. You have cried to my heartbroken. I begged a clue from you,…

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The Three Remedies

First, it’s best not to see. The mind will not be captivated; Second, it’s best not to adore. The heart will not be enslaved; Third, in the last resort, It’s best not to read her poems. The blood will not wage a war in her honor. More Poems : Meet Me When.. Read Next: To…

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Meet Me When….

Meet me when you have rested; Meet me when you have watered the seed of loving-kindness in you; Meet me when you have confronted your fear, embraced your suffering; Meet you when you have cared for the wounded child in you. *** Meet me when you have let go the devil of pride; Meet me…

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To The Oak Tree

If I love you— I will never be a clinging trumpet creeper Using your heigh boughs to show off my height *** If I love you— I will never be a spoony bird Repeating the monotonous song for the green shade *** Nor the spring Bringing the cool solace all year long Nor a steep…

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